


Venomous

by darkavengerz (darkavenger)



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Blood Gulch Chronicles, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-16
Updated: 2014-11-16
Packaged: 2018-02-25 15:38:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2627051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkavenger/pseuds/darkavengerz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grif gets bitten.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Venomous

"It's okay! I'll just suck out the venom!"

"Get the fuck away from me."

"Aw, don't be like that Grif! I know this'll work, I saw it on a nature documentary!"

"Donut's right," Simmons points out, "and if you don't hurry up and let him, you're probably going to die."

"I'll take death," Griff says, drawing his leg against his body. 

"Well, you heard him!" Sarge says briskly and cheerily. “Man’s made his decision. Got to respect that.” 

"You don't need to worry about me getting poisoned," Donut assures Grif cheerily, "I'll make sure to spit not swallow!" 

"Seriously, just hurry up and let him before the poison reaches your heart," Simmons says over the noise of Grif growling. He frowns down severely at Grif. "The fat clogging your arteries can only slow down the poison so much."

"Fuck you," Grif hisses, "I want to die with a little dignity, okay."

"Why?" Sarge asks, chuckling, "It's not like you had any while you were alive!"

"He's not dead yet," Simmons snaps, "and he won't die if he just stops being such a fucking baby and lets Donut suck out the venom!"

"Ready and willing," Donut says. "I just applied a fresh layer of chapstick, so my lips are extra soft."

Grif looks at Simmons. "Why does it have to be Donut?" he appeals, "I don't see you offering to save me, Simmons!"

"Fuck that," Simmons snorts disdainfully, "I don't want my lips on any part of you, I know exactly how often you wash."

"Aw, don't act all prissy," Grif shoots back, "you kiss Sarge's ass with those lips."

"Well, now I'm definitely not going to help you," Simmons snaps, eyes narrowing. "You deserve your fate! Why were you sleeping in long grass and out of your armour?"

"Uh, because it's comfortable?" Grif asks sarcastically. He shrugs, "It was a good nap. I have no regrets."

"Qué está pasando?" asks a robotic voice, as Lopez joins the Red huddle to stare down at Grif, whose's normally brown face looks unnaturally pale.

"Oh, it's just Grif," Donut replies, shaking his head sadly. "He got bitten by some kind of alien snake, and he won't let me suck the venom out!"

"¿Qué estaba haciendo aquí en primer lugar? idiota." Lopez replies.

"Oh, it was a blue snake," Donut says tearfully, "with pink spots!"

"It's an act of God," Sarge says cheerily, "nothing we can do! Except, if you want, I could always put him out of his misery!"

"No!" Grif and Simmons say in unison.

"Esa serpiente es inofensivo," Lopez says, "él está bien."

"I agree, Lopez," Donut says, dabbing at his eyes with a handkerchief, "if only there was something we could do."

"Bien. Lo voy a traer un poco de la medicina falsa," Lopez says, before turning back towards Red base.

"Hey, where's Lopez off to?" Sarge asks, "the moment we've all been waiting for, Grif's impending death, will be here any second! He doesn't want to miss that, does he?"

"Fuck you," Grif says, bitterly.

"Oh! I think he said something about going to fetch some medicine?" Donut says, forehead scrunching up lightly. "Either that, or he's going to join a commune."

"Huh," Sarge scratches his head. "That kind of hippy bs doesn't sound like Lopez."

"Wait," Grif says hopefully, "did you say gone to fetch medicine?" he clasps his hands to his heart, "oh thank god! I'm saved! And I didn't have to let Donut get to first base with me!"

"Medicine?" Simmons asks, puzzled, "what medicine? i thought we ran out ever since someone decided to use the last of our supplies for recreational purposes."

"That was Kaikaina," Grif protests defensively. "She has a problem, okay?"

"She's not the one who ate all the chewy vitamins because he thought they were sweets," Simmons snaps, glaring.

Grif shrugs, "What can I say, it was an honest mistake."

"They were in bottles! Labelled bottles," Simmons exclaims, "Don't you ever read the packaging before you put stuff in your mouth?"

"Eh. Not really. Do you want to know what they put into our MRE's?" Grif asks. Simmons has to concede he has a point there.

"Ugh," Donut shudders, "tell me about it! I don't even want to think what these ready meals are doing for my cholesterol! It's the silent killer!"

"Really?" Simmons frowns, contemplative. "I always those were landmines."

"Espalda. tengo su medicamento."

Simmons jumps, then turns round to stare at Lopez and the glass he's holding. "Is that medicine?" he asks doubtfully, "it kinda just looks like a glass of water."

"correcta. es sólo agua."

"what did he say?" Grif asks Donut urgently.

"Dunno," Donut shrugs apologetically. "I couldn't catch it. He turns to Lopez and says slowly, "¿Es esa la medicina?"

"Sí, es la medicina," Lopez says tonelessly. 

"Aw fuck, just give it here," Grif says, leaning up and snatching the glass out of Lopez's hand. He drains the glass in one gulp, throat moving silently as he swallows. 

Simmons and Donut crowd round, peering down anxiously. “Well,” Simmons asks, impatiently, “how do you feel?”

“Uh,” Grif blinks, looking down introspectively at the bitemark, “…fine. I guess.”

There’s a sniff, and they look up to see Sarge wiping moisture away from his eyes.

“Sir, are you alright?” Simmons asks, alarmed.

“’m fine,” Sarge says in a choked voice, waving Simmons’ concern away.

“Aw,” Donut says, sympathetically, “It’s okay Sarge! I’m sure we’re all a little emotional right now!” He flings his arms impulsively round his commanding officer.

“I’m just so disappointed!” Sarge explodes, turning away and dislodging the clinging Donut as he does. “My dream of watching as Grif dies a slow and painful death were almost realised!”

“Fuck you too, Sarge,” Grif says drily, standing up.

“Cruel world,” Sarge wails manfully, shaking a fist dramatically at the sky.

“Don’t worry, sir,” Simmons says, in a consoling tone, “given Grif’s propensity for doing really fucking dumb things, chances are eventually it’ll happen.”

“Hey Simmons?” Grif says, turning to his fellow soldier, “fuck you too.”

“What?” Simmons says defensively, “it’s true! I caught you trying to drink antifreeze the other day!”

“In my defence,” Grif says, “it was blue and I thought it was Gatorade.”

“Why would we be keeping Gatorade in the trunk of the Warthog?” Simmons demands.

Grif shrugs, and responds, “I dunno, why are we carting around anti-freeze when we live in the middle of a fucking desert? That seems pretty dumb to me.”

Simmons turns pink and stammers furiously, “Y-yeah well, maybe next time you try and do something life-threateningly stupid I won’t stop you!” He whirls around and leaves.

“That’s the spirit, Simmons,” Sarge calls after him. His expression brightens. “Simmons is right, Grif’s luck is bound to run out someday, and without Simmons looking out for him, he’s bound to die!”

“Again,” Grif says, ignored in the background, “fuck you, sir.”

“I don’t know about that,” Donut says apologetically, “I caught Simmons practising mouth to mouth on Grif the other day! I’ve never seen anyone so passionate about first aid!”

Sarge freezes, face twitching. Grif coughs awkwardly.

“Yeah, about that…”


End file.
